A Matter of Trust
by rockstarpeach
Summary: Sam and Dean love each other. Of course they do, they're brothers. It's more than that though, and sometimes they get jealous. Like when one of them falls in love with an angel, too. Boy!sex, bondage, schmoop, jealousy. Dean/Sam, Dean/Cas, Sam/Ruby.


Title: A Matter of Trust

Pairing: Dean/Sam, Dean/Cas, mentions of Sam/Ruby

Rating: Adult

Summary: Dean and Sam love each other. Of course they do; they're brothers. It's more than that though, and sometimes they get jealous. Like when one of them falls in love with an angel, as well.

Warnings: Not much. Slight bondage (though it's voluntary), angst, schmoop, jealousy Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money, I just like to play

***

Another seal was about to be broken.

Another bogus run that Castiel had to send the brothers on, to keep them in line, to make sure things were still progressing the way there were supposed to. Since he'd been dragged back to heaven, since he'd learned of Zacharia's true intent, he'd not been comfortable with Dean, not able to look him in the eye as he lied to him, sent him on fruitless missions, and expected him to do as he said.

The fact that Dean did, would, do whatever Castiel instructed, only made matters worse. Sure, Dean would argue, tell him he was wrong, that they were all wrong, and that he and Sam had a better way of handling it. He'd rebel at the small things, the things that didn't matter to Castiel anyway, and Castiel was under no impression that he had Dean under his thumb, that he was a faithful servant. But when something was truly important, all Castiel had to do was look at him, lower the tilt of his head, and look up at Dean, narrow his eyes.

Appear at once both commanding and submissive at once, and Dean would be unable to choose any course of action that was not what Castiel had dictated. It would have felt like a lie, acting that way, like a betrayal, a manipulation, if it wasn't such a true portrait of the way he felt about Dean. He demanded servitude, even as he wanted to serve.

And eventually, Dean would give in, do what was needed, even if he didn't want to, because when it came down to it, he trusted him. Not completely, he was still hesitant, still unsure about heaven and hell and his role in saving the world, but Castiel was angel, was sent to save him and watch over him, and he focused on Dean so intensely, he was sure that Dean could physically feel his inappropriate… affection. And that went a long way.

Dean trusted him, and the reason for that trust, was love. Ill advised and unhealthy, born of obligation and thankfulness, but love all the same.

Dean loved him.

Castiel knew that, had experienced that love first hand, through looks, both hostile and longing, and then touches, angry and fleeting and much more meaningful, and most recently, kisses.

Dean had kissed him. Dean _often_ kissed him, and after the first time, when Castiel hadn't responded, had only stared at him with his mostly neutral expression, eyes drawn slightly in disapproval, Dean had coughed and sputtered, and looked down. He'd apologised, and mumbled about not really meaning to, and that he wasn't thinking, and Castiel hadn't believed a word of it.

Oh, he knew Dean hadn't meant to, that he would have been perfectly happy to never express his feelings for him in physical terms, but to say that he hadn't been thinking, was a lie. He had been. He'd been thinking about kissing Castiel for a while, and when he finally had, Castiel had not been shocked.

He'd been hesitant to reciprocate, of course he had. He couldn't deny that the way he felt about Dean was powerful, made him rethink everything he thought he'd known, but he hadn't been sent to Earth to fornicate with his charge. It had been a long time, a _very_ long time, since he'd wanted to. There were certain drawbacks to being trapped inside a human body, certain wants and near-paralysing urges that took hold of him, made him consider things that he had no right to consider.

It was… difficult.

And what made it more so, was Sam.

Sam. Dean's brother, Dean's other half, Dean's lover.

Yes, Castiel knew they were involved, beyond the normal parameters of brotherly love, and while something deeply ingrained in him told him that it was wrong, he didn't feel it was his place to judge. He was experiencing, not for the first time, sinful thoughts of his own, and he knew that any judgement he cast on the two would be tainted by jealousy.

Envy and lust and doubt. Three very serious offences, and all because of Dean.

Dean Winchester was… strong and brave and handsome, and just about every other flattering adjective some random passer by would assign him, but he was also the complete absence of those things.

Castiel had seen him at his worst, dark and weak and afraid, and he suspected that if all of Dean's many and varied admirers over the years had seen him the way that Castiel had, they wouldn't be as forgiving, wouldn't be as willing to see past it to the wonder inside him.

Castiel did, though. And so did Sam.

After the third time Dean had kissed him, when Dean was breathless from a battle, and lonely and fed up and angry, and had yelled at Castiel for being such a cold, heartless son of a bitch, and leaving them there to die, instead of showing up two minutes earlier and helping them out, Castiel had kissed him back.

It surprised them both, and later that night, when Sam had gone off with Ruby, and Dean was alone at their motel, Castiel had come to him, appearing in the room with nothing but a vague shadow and the muted sound of wings beating against stale air to give him away.

***

Sam and Dean sat in yet another in their long string of random motels. It was the middle of the night, and they probably should have been sleeping, but neither of them was very tired. It had been a rough day, and they were too wired, and the case they were on wasn't even over yet.

They were expecting Castiel sometime that night, with information they might need, and Sam almost wished that the angel would fuck off and leave them alone. Heaven had been jerking them around just as much as Hell, shit, _more_ than Hell, and Sam was sick of it. He was also sick of his brother making fucking googoo eyes at the son of a bitch all the damn time.

The tension between the two was driving him crazy, the way they looked at each other, long and drawn out gazes, the intensity in every word they spoke to each other. Sam wasn't sure exactly what had been happening between them, but more often than not, Sam just wanted to roll his eyes and shout 'Get a room, already!'.

He wasn't jealous, not exactly. But he hadn't seen Dean this into someone who wasn't Sam, since Cassy. And this seemed like more than even that had. It was fucked up, and it made Sam want to hit something. Dean was looking like a pretty good option. Okay, so maybe he _was_ a little jealous.

"So…" Sam started, and clicked off the television, ignoring Dean's protest of 'dude, I was watching that', and rolled over on his side, to face Dean on the other bed. "What's going on, Dean?" It felt kind of weird to be talking about this, because sleeping with other people wasn't something they really talked about with each other.

At least not anyone who mattered. Dean did like to brag about his conquests, but then again, Castiel was different, obviously meant more, and Sam wasn't really surprised that he hadn't brought it up.

"Huh?" Dean asked, flopping onto his belly and looking at Sam. "Going on with what?"

"With Cas."

Dean sighed heavily and closed his eyes briefly, before fluffing up his pillow and pushing it under his chest and leaning on his elbows. "Dude, do we have to do this now?" he asked, and it came out kind of whiny. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but he was really hoping to put it off a little longer. He just knew Sam was going to turn into a needy little bitch about it, and Dean didn't want to see Sam upset. "We're on a case."

"Just tell me," Sam said, voice taking on a hard edge, eyes turning dark. The fact that Dean hadn't said 'nothing' put a heavy feeling in Sam's stomach, and now he _really_ needed to know. "Are you fucking him?"

"What do you care?" Dean asked him, and he sounded like he was honestly curious. Why the hell _would_ Sam care who Dean was fucking. He never had before.

Sam looked at him incredulous, like he's suddenly grown and extra head or something, and sputtered, mouth half open. Seriously? Did Dean _really_ expect him not to care about this?

Dean sighed, again, and shook his head. "Sorry. I just… What's with the sudden possessive streak, Sammy? I mean, you're fucking Ruby…"

Sam had the good grace to look vaguely ashamed, though whether it was because of his double standard or the fact that he was screwing a demon and drinking her blood, neither of them knew for sure. "Yeah, I have," he admitted, quietly. "But it's not… And what? You think that means you can just go and stick it wherever you like?"

"When the hell have you ever cared where I 'stuck it'?" Dean snarled. "Besides, it ain't like that."

The heavy feeling in Sam's gut got heavier, his stomach nearly dropping to the floor. "But it's something?"

"Fuck," Dean breathed out, and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to face his brother, and Sam mirrored his actions. He _so_ didn't want to do this right now. He didn't know what the hell the big deal was, anyway. It wasn't like him and Sammy were exclusive. They never had been. "Yeah, okay? Not that it's any of your business."

"How is this not my business?"

"Because," Dean said, fingers digging into his thighs, scratching across the rough demin of his pants. "It's nothing to do with you, Sam. Or Ruby, or the apocalypse or any goddamn thing. It's just about us."

That made Sam kind of feel like he wanted to throw up. If Dean was involved with Castiel out of guilt, or obligation, or revenge, or necessity, if there was some reason for it that didn't threaten Sam's place in Dean's heart, he could deal with it. It wouldn't matter, not any more than any of the other people that they slept with.

But hearing that Dean was fucking Cas because he had feelings for him? That was surprisingly hard to hear. Fuck, Sam hadn't even realised how strained his relationship with Dean had become, but this sudden fear that gripped him, told him that he could lose Dean, because they were growing further apart, and Dean was obviously into someone else… yeah, that made the possibility of loss terrifyingly vivid.

A million different things ran through Sam's mind, things he might say, but what came out hadn't been on that list, and he almost cringed when he heard the words.

"You don't love me?" he asked, but he didn't sound pussy, or whiny, just… a little but hurt, and a lot pissed off.

Dean screwed up his face at Sam and gestured futilely at him with one hand. "What the fuck kind of dumbass thing is that to say?!" He shouted. "Course I fuckin' love you! Asshole."

"But…" Sam said, knowing that he was being stupid. Of course Dean loved him. He'd never once questioned that. It didn't mean that Castiel might not look like the better option between them, especially considering way Dean and Sam had been butting heads lately. "You and Cas…"

"Dude," Dean said, voice level, and his lips quirked up a bit at one corner of his mouth, an almost smile. "Ruby." It was actually almost cute that Sam was getting so jealous over his thing with Cas, when Sam and Ruby were going at it on and off, pretty regularly.

Not that Dean was thrilled about that. Far fucking from it, because Ruby was a demon, and she was evil, no matter what she'd managed to convince Sam, and Dean didn't trust her. And it hurt Dean a little to think what must be going on between them for Sam to have so much faith in her.

"Dean, that's not the same thing," Sam said, and he thought about standing up, but decided against it. "I _need_ her."

Dean snorted, and sat down in one of the chairs at the table. "Yeah, makes me feel real secure, Sammy." He _needed_ her? What the fuck?

That little admission, unguarded and not thought through, was the first clue tonight for Sam, that Dean might be kind of unsure about things lately himself, that he was just as scared of losing Sam, as Sam was of losing Dean. Not that Sam should have ever doubted that. "Fuck off," he said, but there wasn't any venom in it. "That's not what I meant. _We_ need her, Dean. She's on our side, and we need her, need how she can help me, to stop Lilith."

Dean raised an eyebrow at that, and tilted his head. "Cas is gonna be a hell of a lot more help than Ruby is, Sam. He's a fucking _angel_. He's the good guy here."

"You're only saying that cause you're fucking him!" Sam scowled, and told himself to just drop it, because he knew he was acting like a jealous little bitch. "He's been nothing but a pain in the ass."

Deans mouth dropped open and he stared at Sam, not really sure where to start. "Are you even listening to yourself? Cas is a pain in the ass," he mumbled, and yeah, he really was, a lot of the time, Dean had to admit that. "And Ruby is a freakin' bucket of sunshine?"

"Okay, fine. We don't agree on that. On who's really helping us and why. I know you don't trust her, but I don't trust Castiel. We're just going to have to deal with that. But…" Sam paused, took a deep breath. This conversation wasn't looking like such a good idea anymore. "You're falling for him, Dean."

"What if I am?" Dean asked, looking at Sam with wide, trusting eyes. He was. What he felt for Cas, it was… unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Not necessarily stronger, just... new, and amazing. Cas wasn't Sam, could never be, and could never take Sam's place, but that didn't mean what Dean felt wasn't real.

"It's dangerous," Sam told him, but that wasn't really what he meant. "When you let yourself feel something for someone, those feelings get in the way, and you can't think objectively." That was true, but the 'getting in the way' Sam was talking about, was actually more to do with his relationship with Dean than stopping Lilith.

"Like we've been doing all our lives?" Dean asked, again with that hint of a smile. Dean and Sam had never exactly been objective. Their love for each other had caused both of them to do stupid things, time after time, and neither of them had any intention of stopping. They probably wouldn't be able to, even if they wanted. Their love was so fucking strong it was freaky.

"Yeah!" Sam agreed, vehemently. "Us! We have! Who the fuck is Castiel to come between us and…"

"And?" Dean prompted, when Sam trailed off.

"Look, Dean," Sam started, and okay, he might as well just get into it. He'd brought it up, after all. "It's not like… like we're _boyfriends_ or anything. I mean, we've never been exclusive."

They hadn't. Not once, since they started sleeping together back when Sam was 15, had either of them felt compelled to commit. Not with their bodies anyway. With their hearts, their minds, they had the most intense connection that two people could have, and that was enough. They were brothers, soul mates, and that meant more than anything, even while Sam had been away at school, when he was with Jessica, and even though up until very recently, Dean had spent most of his off nights hooking up with strangers.

And Sam knew that Castiel was the reason that Dean had stopped sleeping around so much, and that was like a slap in the face, even though he knew it shouldn't be.

"But…" Sam continued, and then stopped.

Dean didn't prompt him this time, just started at him with hard eyes, jade turning darker and dangerous.

"I feel like I'm losing you." Sam knew that Dean's connection to Castiel was far more potent than anything either of them had ever had with anyone but each other, and fuck, yeah, he hated it.

"Dude, stop being such a fuckin' girl."

"Tell me I mean more to you," Sam demanded, shifting on the bed and looking intently at Dean.

"Sam…" Dean said and looked down, the way his thumbs were idly playing together between his knees suddenly very interesting. Dean didn't fucking say shit like that. Sam should just know. Sam should always just know.

Yeah, Sam knew that was a long shot, but maybe it would be easier without words. He would take anything he could get, at this point. "Okay then," he said, standing up and walking over his duffle bag on the floor. He rooted through it and pulled out a belt, and a bandana, letting the items hang loose in his fingers and turned toward Dean again. "If you can't tell me, show me."

***

Castiel materialised just inside the door of the boys' motel room, wings beating a soft rhythm to land him gently on the ground. He blinked at what he saw, but didn't make a sound, didn't feel it was his place to do so, that he'd be intruding. Sam's challenging smirk as he dug his nails harder into the soft, sweet flesh of Dean's hips, told him he was right.

They were on one of the beds, and Dean was blindfolded, hands tied behind his back with his shoulders pressed to the mattress, while Sam took him from behind. Dean couldn't see him, but Castiel saw a shiver move through his naked form, and could swear that Dean somehow felt his presence.

Castiel blinked, but he didn't look away. Couldn't. Sam thrust harder, and he moaned, and Dean cried out, his mouth opening wide, and he pushed back against his brother. Castiel's eyes shifted down, looking at a spot on the carpet.

Sam had fucked Dean before but he didn't do it very often, and he'd never bound him, never taken away his ability to move, or see. Dean had issues, not surprisingly, considering their lives, but the fact that he was letting Sam do this, even though he'd only agreed out of guilt, and the need to reassure Sam, was hugely ego-boosting, and confirming and he almost wanted to cry, it was so damn good.

When Castiel showed up, Sam almost stopped. He almost covered Dean's naked body with his own, and pulled out and wrapped the blankets around them while he searched for their discarded clothing, but he didn't.

He knew it was unfair to Dean, but he wasn't really thinking about that at the moment, just the need to make Castiel watch this, to let him know that Dean belonged to him. Dean and Cas could fuck all they wanted, but Dean belonged to Sam. He loved Sam, and he trusted Sam, and he would never, ever give up this sort of control to Cas, not to anyone but Sam.

Castiel heard Dean groan, heard a vague, 'hell yeah, Sammy, right there,' mumbled through his perfect lips, and sucked in a heavy breath and looked up once more. Sam was still smirking at him, looking straight at him while he made love to Dean, while he dominated Dean, fucked into his pliant body and made him love it.

Sam's eyes, the tilt of his head, the sneer of his mouth, they all told Castiel the same thing. Told him Sam was glad he'd come to find them like this, because this was Sam making a point, this was Sam staking his claim. This was Sam, telling Dean, and Castiel, that Sam was the one Dean would always be with.

That Dean trusted Sam way more than he could ever trust Castiel, and even though Dean felt obliged, felt compelled to be near Castiel, it wasn't anything compared to what he shared with his brother, because this… this that he was witnessing right now, between the two of them… Dean would never share this with Castiel.

And if, perhaps, they were working toward a trust that may lead there, Sam would be sure to put a stop to it, and Dean would let him. Because to Dean, Sam was everything.

It didn't matter that Sam was sleeping with a demon, didn't matter that he was hooked on her blood, on the blood of all demons, that he was the possible anti-Christ, and slated to become something which the brothers had sworn to eliminate long before Castiel had shown up.

None of that mattered, because he loved Sam, and nothing that could ever happen, would change that. Nothing would shake Dean's trust in his brother, and while he did trust Castiel, it was different, not as unshakable.

It… hurt, Castiel supposed would be the best word, that Dean didn't have this kind of faith in him, but it was also right. Castiel had lied to him, over and over, would lie to him again tonight, and while he wanted nothing more than for Dean to believe in him, his soul and his heart, if not his words, his belief in Dean would have to be enough for them both.

Sam saw the acceptance, the capitulation on Castiel's face, and he was satisfied that for the moment, he'd made his point. He knew Castiel wasn't going to back off, knew that Dean wouldn't let Cas go either, but that was okay. As long as they all knew that this, between Sam and Dean, was the only constant, Sam didn't really mind what Dean did.

He sped up his thrusts, eyes still locked on Castiel's, the angel's face tilted downward, but his eyes still focused on the brothers. He gripped Dean's hips tightly, pushed forward, hard, a few more times, and came, with a strangled shout.

"Fuck, Dean," he panted, hunched over him, and gulping in deep breaths, oxygen filling his lungs. "Just… _fuck_! That was…"

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling, voice muffled from being half buried in the bed. "I'm good, eh?"

Sam laughed, his attention all on Dean now, and kissed him on the back of the neck. "Yeah," he agreed. "Nobody like you, big brother."

"Damn right," Dean said, and wriggled his hips slightly. "Now, if you could just…"

Dean hadn't come yet, and while he was prouder than fuck that Sam had gotten off so quickly using his body, it was his turn now.

Sam huffed out a chuckle into Dean's ear and pulled back, arm wrapped around Dean's waist taking him with him, so that they were both kneeling upright on the bed. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, pumping it quickly, and his eyes went back to Castiel, who was still watching, still silent.

_Pervert_, Sam thought. Didn't he fucking get enough of seeing Dean naked and horny? He had to watch every second of this, too? That was okay, though. Sam could use that.

Dean was getting closer, Sam's hand working furiously over his cock, and Sam's own softening dick slowly slipping out of his ass, cum dribbling out of his hole and down his thighs. He'd been uncertain about trying this at first, letting himself be restrained like this, but Sam had needed it, and so of course, Dean gave it to him. He always would. Sam knew that, and sometimes he used it, but Dean would always give in.

And now he was glad that he had, because it was good. _Damn_ good, and he pumped back and forth, between Sam's hand and his flaccid cock, and he was _almost there_.

And then Sam stopped.

"Sam!" Dean spat, the word a curse on his lips, and when he tried to move forward into Sam's fist, Sam let go entirely. "Fuck!"

Sam gave him a few seconds and gripped him again, tentatively at first, to make sure he wouldn't try to move, and when Dean held still he smiled, and held him firmer. "Cas," he whispered into Dean's ear, and Castiel's eyes shot to his, wide and almost afraid, and Dean jerked and cried out, the word a jolt to his pleasure center.

Castiel's lips twitched, the beginnings of a pleased smirk, but he hid the expression quickly. This was not the time to get cocky. Sam had noticed his satisfaction though, and scowled at Castiel, the hand on Dean's side curling into a fist, fingernails digging sharply into the soft flesh of his belly, pinching.

Dean flinched at the sharp stab of discomfort, and hitched in a breath. "What…" he panted out, head rolling back onto Sam's shoulder, as Sam continued to stroke his cock. "What about him?" Hadn't they been over this? Didn't this, right now, what Dean was letting Sam do, prove that Sam came first? Fuck. And he just really needed to come.

"Do you love him?" Sam asked, slowing down the strokes on Dean's prick, and Castiel looked at them both. If he needed to worry about breathing, he would have held his breath in anticipation. And he honestly wasn't sure what he wanted to hear Dean say. 'Yes' would be the truth, Castiel knew that, but that was something wholly personal, and to have it involve Sam in any way, cheapened it.

"Ungh…" was Dean's response, and Sam pumped him again, pushed his own hips forward, even though it didn't do much good.

"Tell me," Sam demanded, and licked the outside of Dean's ear, from top to bottom, before biting the lobe sharply between his teeth.

Dean closed his eyes behind the bandana that was covering them. He didn't want to have to say this, ever. Not to anyone, but especially not to Sam. "Yeah, yeah I love him," he admitted, and then growled, and pushed forward again. "Just fuckin' get me off already."

Sam didn't move, couldn't, for the piercing stab of pointed ice through his chest. Holy fuck. Dean loved Cas. Dean _loved_ Cas. He knew he'd loved Cassy, once upon a time, just like Sam had loved Jessica, but that had been a long time ago, before… well, before the past few years, before they'd realised just how much they needed one another.

"More than me?" he asked, and he knew he sounded needy. Thankfully, Castiel had the decency to look away.

Dean didn't say anything, just groaned and bucked, tried to pull his hands loose. Fuck, he needed to come. Couldn't they have this conversation later?

"Dean!"

Apparently not.

"No!" Dean ground out, and gave his wrists another tug, just to test the strength of the belt holding them. "No, okay? No, I don't love him more than you. Can't love anybody more than you. Just can't, Sammy, you know that." He sounded breathless, desperate, and only part of it was because of his need for release. He wasn't sure it went both ways, wasn't sure that Sam loved him the most, but it was the truth. He loved Sam more than he could ever love anyone.

Sam smiled, and looked at Cas again, pleased. He'd wanted to rub the angel's nose in it, had wanted for him to know, without a doubt, what the score was, wanted to say 'Dean loves me more, he'll always love me more, so you might as well fuck off", but the saddened, resigned, look on Castiel's face, changed his mind. Mostly.

Sam started moving his hand faster, let Dean rock back against him, not that it was doing much good, with Sam's dick so small and shrivelled, but the motion was welcome, comforting, and Dean seemed to like it.

"Do you trust him?"

Dean hesitated, but only briefly. "…yes."

"Tell me the truth, Dean," Sam demanded, but he hadn't altered his movements, hadn't stopped Dean from his. This wasn't part of the game anymore, not really. Sam just needed to know. It was bigger than the two of them, he could recognise that, and he needed to know what Dean was thinking.

"Dammit, Sam, I am! I do trust him. I want to trust him."

"Do you really?" Sam asked. "Trust him? Or is it just because you like taking his cock that much, that you're willing to do what he wants?" Okay, that was low, and Castiel seemed to agree, because he looked at Sam, eyes narrowing into hard slits, and turned his chin in that disapproving way of his.

"I fucking told you, it's not about sex, Sam," Dean said, and kept moving, kept chasing his end. "We haven't…"

Sam stilled then, too shocked to even keep jacking Dean.

"Really?" They hadn't had sex? What the hell? The sexual chemistry between them was off the freakin' scale, and they hadn't…

"I trust him," Dean said, and shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden change in tone, and feeling like Sam might try to sing him a fucking love song at this point. "But I don't know how much."

Castiel closed his eyes at that, glad that Dean was being cautious, but wounded to hear, out loud, that Dean knew there was a line, even if he hadn't met it yet. When he opened his eyes again, Sam was staring at him, distinct air of victory about him, because he was right. Dean had always loved and trusted Sam more than Castiel. He hadn't ever thought differently. That didn't make the sharp stab of longing and regret in his gut any less painful, though.

"It's okay," Sam said, and his teeth closed over Dean's shoulder, biting gently while his hand worked over his cock, quickly, quickly, driving him closer to the edge. "We'll work it out." And they would. No matter what else happened, even if Dean chose Cas in the end, even if Sam lost himself to his addiction, the two of them would never break. "Come for me, Dean," he said, and his hand sped up even more, thumb dipping into Dean's slit and fingers clenching tightly. "For _me_."

Castiel was pretty sure Dean did, based on the chocked cry of what he assumed to be pleasure ringing in his ears, but he didn't stick around to find out. That would have been too much of an intrusion, a misuse of trust. He knew he'd gone beyond what was appropriate as it was, but to see Dean lose such control in another's arms… not only did it tear at Castiel's insides, it made him feel dirty, to witness such a private moment.

He turned his back and walked away before he found out for sure what happened, and he headed toward the kitchenette next to the beds, not quite a separate room, but a half-wall between them was something, and he waited until they were finished.

He couldn't leave yet, however much he wanted to.

He still needed to talk to Dean.

There was still work to do.

END


End file.
